


sugar sweet stress relief

by Carcharias



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Face-Sitting, Felching, Humiliation, M/M, Piercings, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Snowballing, and sexiled, dirty talk with gendered insults, im so sorry jongin, jongin gets mentally scarred, pcy tears, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 05:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6458098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carcharias/pseuds/Carcharias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongdae likes to be there for his friends, and sometimes they're there for him, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sugar sweet stress relief

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the first round of exoquartus. Relevant supporting material: https://t.co/z0WdGpwuxW
> 
> **The humiliation is relatively light, fyi. I'm new to this.
> 
> This is one of the two filthiest things I've ever written, the second one has yet to be posted, what have I done

“Hey, Jongdae.” Jongdae opens his eyes, pulls himself out of his admittedly light sleep.

“Yeah?” His roommate’s sitting on his bed, shirtless and in his boxers. Baekhyun’s hands are fisted in the cotton of his shorts, twisting anxiously, and Jongdae hums, understanding.

“Yeah, okay, come here.” He opens his arms, and Baekhyun scrambles forward, smiling sheepishly.

 

Baekhyun grins, sweet smile turned dirty as he traces light kisses down Jongdae’s shaft to his balls, and that just won’t do. Jongdae reaches down, grips Baekhyun’s jaw, twists his face up. “Don’t be a fucking tease,” he says, but the laughter in his voice gives him away.

Baekhyun grins wider, licks his lips, already a little red and kiss-swollen. “Just savoring the moment,” he says, and before Jongdae can push Baekhyun’s face where he wants it, he suckles the tip of Jongdae’s dick between those abused lips, tongue flicking lightly against the slit.

“Fuck,” Jongdae moans, and he hears and feels Baekhyun laugh around his dick. He thrusts up a little in revenge and is rewarded with a choked groan.

“That’s it, take it, don’t stop,” Jongdae murmurs, thrusting up again and Baekhyun falters, hands scrabbling at Jongdae’s pajama-clad thighs, trying to keep himself from slipping down Jongdae’s dick. He glares up at Jongdae reproachfully and Jongdae laughs.

“Come on, Baek,” he says, “you can do better than that.” One hand comes up to play with the hair just above Baekhyun’s ear, encouraging even as his words sting. “I know you like it when you choke on my dick.” His thumb skims down over hollowed cheeks to trace over the seam where Baekhyun’s cherry lips are sliding over his dick.

Baekhyun’s eyes flutter closed, and he moans loudly, slowly but steadily sliding down until his nose is brushing at the base of Jongdae’s cock, pausing to adjust. “That’s it,” Jongdae says, before choking on a groan when Baekhyun finally swallows around his dick. He feels Baekhyun hum, and that’s all the warning he gets before Baekhyun begins slowly bobbing up and down, nearly swallowing all of Jongdae down each time.

His mouth is so wet and hot and so so so good, and Jongdae says so, panting it out as his fingers twist in Baekhyun’s hair, trying to ground himself as Baekhyun’s tongue flicks at the underside of his head on the upstroke.

Baekhyun starts to speed up, pulling back and one hand coming up to wrap around the part his mouth doesn’t reach. Jongdae’s hand falls away to let Baekhyun take over, like he usually likes, but Baekhyun’s other hand gropes, catches Jongdae’s hand and puts it back in his hair, pushing into it like a puppy. Baekhyun’s not always needy but he is this time, making these small whimpering noises, panting heavily, and his hand creeps down between his own legs. Jongdae shifts to see Baekhyun palming frantically at his own dick through his boxers, sees his hips stutter, and Jongdae can feel the pressure in his groin building.

Jongdae’s hand tightens in Baekhyun’s hair, pulling a little, and Baekhyun whines louder, the noise going straight to Jongdae’s dick. He starts thrusting up, initially throwing off Baekhyun’s rhythm but then they’re going faster, and Baekhyun’s nearly choking on his dick—nearly, never all the way, not with Baekhyun—whines getting higher and higher pitched.

“Fuck Baek—fuck yes—I’m gonna, I’m gonna come,” Jongdae pants out, feels Baekhyun hum and swallow, throat clenching around his dick and he’s gone. His hand practically yanks at Baekhyun’s hair as he comes down Baekhyun’s throat, and Baekhyun keens, nose pressed into Jongdae’s skin.

Baekhyun pulls off when Jongdae comes down from his high, sits back on his heels between Jongdae’s legs. His lips are bright red and shiny from spit and come and his eyes are wet but bright. He hasn’t opened his mouth and Jongdae grins.

“Come here and give us a kiss,” he says, and Baekhyun rolls his eyes but swiftly sits in Jongdae’s lap, wrapping his arms close around Jongdae’s neck to eagerly press those slick lips to his. He opens his mouth and Jongdae licks inside, tasting himself on Baekhyun’s tongue, feels it spill out a little between their lips and he groans, almost feels his dick twitch again when Baekhyun moans happily, feeding Jongdae his own come.

They pull away, and Jongdae gently thumbs away a drip by the corner of Baekhyun’s mouth. He looks glassy eyed but he’s smiling, and Jongdae can feel him hard against his stomach. He flexes his abs a little and Baekhyun sucks in a breath, shaky. “God, Dae, I need—”

“Lie down for me, babe,” Jongdae interrupts, and Baekhyun slides off his lap to lie face down on his knees next to him on the bed, ass wiggling in the air eagerly. Jongdae settles behind him and slowly tugs Baekhyun’s boxers off and down his legs, trailing gentle, wet kisses after it. Baekhyun’s got such a great ass, soft and plush and Jongdae could bury his face in it all day.

“Hurry, please,” Baekhyun whines into the pillow and Jongdae pinches him. He yelps, and Jongdae laughs.

“Don’t rush me,” he says, and he can hear Baekhyun start to complain but it gets choked off when Jongdae leans in to lick a long stripe from Baekhyun’s perineum to his hole. He traces his tongue along the rim a little and feels Baekhyun wobble.

“You like that?” Jongdae asks, lips pressed to Baekhyun’s ass and Baekhyun groans into the pillow. “Yes, please Jongdae don’t—don’t tease, god.” Jongdae grins, and licks again.

He alternates between long flat licks and short ones, flicking and mouthing at Baekhyun’s ass until his hole is shiny with spit and a little puffy. Baekhyun keeps moaning throughout, little gasping whines that get higher pitched when Jongdae slips the tip of his tongue inside, wiggling it in probing circles. He brings a finger up to gently push alongside his tongue and feels Baekhyun’s foot kick at the bed next to him.

Jongdae pulls back, wiping at his lips. "Lube," he says, and Baekhyun’s arm flings out to the drawer of the bedside table, sloppily searching for the lube while trying not to move from where he’s pressed into the pillow. He finally finds it and crows hoarsely in victory, flinging the tube back at Jongdae and almost hitting him in the face.

"Watch it!" He yelps, smacking Baekhyun on the thigh as he opens the tube. Baekhyun twists over his shoulder to squint at him, opening his mouth to say something snarky, probably. Jongdae cuts him off with a slick finger pressing at his hole, already slipping in to the first knuckle.

"Fuck, that's cold," Baekhyun whines but he's quickly back to panting, breath in short gasps that increase in intensity with the pace of Jongdae's finger sliding in and out. Jongdae takes his time, slowly, gently pushing at Baekhyun's rim, increasing the pace of his thrusts in short bursts that make Baekhyun's breath hitch, before backing off again.

"So good, babe, doing so good," Jongdae mumbles into the soft curve of Baekhyun's ass, presses a wet kiss to the skin as he slowly adds another finger, and another. It's late, so quiet, so chilly in their shared room but warm in the bed and Jongdae is careful, knows what this time of night does to Baekhyun, when the dark keeps him awake instead of asleep. Jongdae knows what he wanted when he crawled into bed, low murmurs pressed to Jongdae’s sleep shirt. His other hand comes up to stroke along his back, his sides, and he feels Baekhyun shiver and relax underneath his palm.

"Jongdaaae," Baekhyun groans, pushing back languidly onto his fingers. "Fuck me, please." But Jongdae just shushes him, nips gently at the small of his back, and starts dragging his fingers along Baekhyun's walls, slow and insistent and Baekhyun outright moans, long and low and exasperated. He starts shivering when Jongdae's fingertips drag firmly over his prostate; Jongdae rubs soothing circles into his back while massaging his prostate and he grins when Baekhyun's knees slip, legs gone wobbly.

It’s been long enough that Jongdae’s hardening again, dick twitching in interest when he leans back, watches as he pulls his fingers out to stretch at Baekhyun’s rim. He grabs for the lube again, fingers slipping out to slick himself up; a few quick pumps and the sound of Baekhyun’s tired moaning and he’s fully hard again. He pushes in, slowly, so slowly, even though he can feel the burn of fatigue in his thighs already. But Baekhyun needs slow, needs easy, at least at first, Jongdae remembers.

Baekhyun lets out a soft, gasping "ah!" when Jongdae bottoms out finally, turning it into a breathless moan when he pauses to adjust. "Yesss," Baekhyun hisses, grinding back a little, weakly, and Jongdae takes that as his cue to start thrusting in earnest.

He starts off slow, easy, light, lets the lube do the work, revels in the light gasps and whines Baekhyun gives on each. He indulges, kneads at Baekhyun's ass some more, still soothing. When he speeds up, Baekhyun's hand flings back to scrabble at Jongdae's hip, skitter up his side to urge him forward.

"Come here," he whines, whimpers when Jongdae goes willingly and presses in further. " _Yes,_ like that—I'm—" He grabs at Jongdae's arms, pulls it up snug against his side. "It's cold, keep me warm." Jongdae laughs.

"Poor baby," he teases, settling along Baekhyun's back, rests his forehead on surprisingly broad shoulders, and interrupts any protest with a deep, short thrust.

He picks up the pace, fucking into Baekhyun like that, wrapped around and over him, warm, almost too warm. Jongdae can feel the sticky slick of sweat between them, the heat of Baekhyun's skin under his face, chest, arms, the slight tug as the piercings in his nipples catch on skin. His tongue darts out to lick and it's salty, just a little.

Baekhyun's whimpering constantly now, higher and higher pitched as Jongdae grinds in, short but deep, angling down to hit Baekhyun's prostate as relentlessly as he can. He leans forward even more, nips at the shell of Baekhyun's ear.

"You feel so good," he murmurs, his own breath raspy. He brings his hand down, splays it across Baekhyun's soft stomach, sloppy with lube, and presses up, hikes his hips even tighter into his own, and Baekhyun's breath hitches. "Warm and tight—gonna come for me?" He grasps Baehyun's cock, squeezes.

"Ah, fuck!" Baekhyun cries. "Fuck yes like that yes Dae—Dae I'm gonna come, _oh god_ —" he whimpers again and Jongdae feels a hand in his hair, Baekhyun's arm bent back awkwardly to cling to him, press him closer. Jongdae pumps his hand quickly, ignores the tired burn in his arm, in his legs—he's close, they both are, and he wants to see Baekhyun fall apart, feel him shudder to pieces underneath the stretch of his chest.

The fingers in his hair pull hard as Baekhyun comes into Jongdae’s fist, mouth pressed open to Jongdae's arm. His ass flutters and Jongdae grunts, grinds out his own climax, face jammed into Baekhyun’s skin.

Jongdae pulls back as Baekhyun goes boneless, propped up only by his knees. A thin line of come drips out of his hole and Jongdae can’t resist. He swoops down, laps up the drip and Baekhyun whines, a high, wrecked sound.

“Fucking delicious,” Jongdae hisses before diving back in, licking into Baekhyun’s hole, taste of his own come bitter on his tongue. Baekhyun manages a shaky laugh, more of a shudder than anything.

“Get up here,” he whines, hand groping for Jongdae’s, and Jongdae goes, grinning when they kiss, lips shiny and slick and hands threading through sweaty bangs. “That was fun,” Baekhyun says, before yawning and burying his face into Jongdae’s chest. “Sleep now.”

“But we’re filthy,” Jongdae says, waving his come covered hand as proof.

“I know you are but what am I,” Baekhyun mumbles, barely coherent. “Sleep.” He burrows deeper, pinning Jongdae to the mattress.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Jongdae laughs but he still just wipes his hand off on the sheets before pulling the blankets up, wrapping them both in a warm cocoon.

 

\----------------------------------------------------

 

Jongdae takes a sip of his drink, grimaces. Who mixed this shit? It’s mostly shitty vodka and powdered orange juice and Jongdae feels a bit ill. He loses the drink out a nearby window and sighs, hands shoved in his pockets. Chanyeol had invited him out, for “stress relief!!” he’d said, but Jongdae knows that’s less for his benefit and more for the tall, gangly art-science double major currently losing obnoxiously at beer pong.

Chanyeol’s being a bit of a bitch, actually. He’s talking too loud and whining too much and yanking people around, more demanding than usual, smile too wide to be happy. They’re all his friends and a few of them are too drunk to care, but Jongdae can see him wearing on some. Kyungsoo had actually snapped at him earlier, left the party early, and Baekhyun keeps sending pleading glances Jongdae’s way.

When Baekhyun mouths _Help me_ for the fourth time, Jongdae finally gives in.

“Hey,” he says, pulls Chanyeol away from the drink table and puts the can he was about to open back in the cooler.

“Noo, I was gonna drink that,” Chanyeol whines. “I’m not even drunk, I’ve only had like two and a half beers, Jongdae, come on.”

Jongdae ignores him, drags him out by the elbow into the night. Chanyeol yells, tries to pull away, but despite his size Jongdae is stronger.

“Jongdae, what the hell!” Chanyeol yelps, and Jongdae spins to face him.

“Come with me,” he says, looking up in the light of the streetlamp. “You’re too wound up, pissing people off, and drinking won’t help.” He smirks. “Come back with me.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol says eloquently, and his arm goes limp, pliant. Jongdae grins.

 

Chanyeol’s so good, so pliant in bed, so eager to please. He puts up a front of resistance but it’s just that: a front, and Jongdae loves taking it down.

He also loves how _long_ Chanyeol looks like this, facedown and scrabbling desperately at the sheets with Jongdae two fingers deep.

“You’re so good,” Jongdae says, watching how Chanyeol writhes when he speaks. “So good, you love this, don’t you? Love my fingers in your ass, working you open, getting you ready to take my cock.” He leans down, stretches to put his mouth by Chanyeol’s ear. “Take it like the whore you are,” he growls, and bites hard at the shell of his ear.

“No,” Chanyeol chokes out, gasping and shuddering, voice already a little wet.

“No?” Jongdae drawls. “You’re not a whore for my dick?” He reaches up the other side of Chanyeol’s head and yanks it to face the right. There’s a mirror there, Chanyeol’s roommate’s full length mirror on the other side of the room, far enough away that Jongdae can see their faces, see the way he’s stretched out above the long arch of Chanyeol’s back.

“Look.” Chanyeol whimpers, closes his eyes and Jongdae pulls at his hair, insistent. “I said _look,_ Chanyeol.” He grins wide when Chanyeol opens his eyes in the mirror, shivering when their gazes meet. His doe eyes are wet and shiny already, cheeks flushed bright red and Jongdae grins even wider, leans down to whisper in his ear without breaking eye contact with their reflection.

“Look at you, so soft and good for me, so thirsty for my dick to fill you up, stuff you full.” He shoves his fingers deeper and Chanyeol groans, eyelids fluttering, but he doesn’t look away.

“Jongdae, Jongdae,” he says, but chokes on the rest.

“What is it, babe?” Jongdae croons, mouthing at Chanyeol’s ear, his shoulder, pumping his fingers in and out. “Spit it out.”

“Jongdae, please—I need—” Chanyeol shudders again, and Jongdae prods at his prostate hard in encouragement. He’s rewarded when the rest comes out in a deep, gravelly rush, “I need you in me please please, oh god, fuck me, Jongdae, please—”

Jongdae yanks Chanyeol’s head even further, stretches up to kiss him, sloppy and awkward and with too much biting but he feels Chanyeol choke back a sob when Jongdae slips his fingers out, and suddenly Jongdae needs to be inside Chanyeol, _right now_.

He leans back, slicks himself up and pushes in, swift and unrelenting. Chanyeol arches even further, biceps flexing as his hands grip the sheets, bunch them up in his fists.

“Fuck, you just sucked me right in, you thirsty bitch, I bet you dream about my dick all the fucking time.” Jongdae starts thrusting, fast and deep, Chanyeol crying out on every thrust, legs slipping and muscles straining.

“No, no I don’t, I’m not,” Chanyeol says, voice wet. He’s almost there, Jongdae can tell, which is good because he almost never lasts long with Chanyeol. Just a bit more, another push.

“I think you are,” Jongdae snaps and slows his hips. Chanyeol protests, tries to rock back onto his cock but Jongdae holds him still with one arm on the back of his neck. The other reaches down to circle Chanyeol’s cock, and honestly, this is Jongdae’s favorite part. He takes his time, pulls at the shaft before finally coming up to play with the cool silver piercing poking out of the head of Chanyeol’s dick. He tugs, rolls his fingers and Chanyeol _keens_.

“Say you’re a bitch,” Jongdae growls into Chanyeol’s shoulder. Chanyeol shakes his head against the pillow, and Jongdae tugs again at the piercing, squeezes. “Say it.”

“Fuck! I’m a bitch, I’m a whore for your cock, I am, Jongdae just fuck me, please, please please you're so good it’s so good, I need it, _please,_ ” Chanyeol sobs, fat tears rolling down his red face into the pillow.

“Good boy,” Jongdae says, and thrusts in, hard. He leans down, bracing himself by Chanyeol’s shoulder to get deeper, shove his dick further into tight heat. He bites down when he comes, sinks his teeth into Chanyeol’s shoulder, pulls at his dick, and Chanyeol follows soon after, sobbing, crying out in ecstasy, ass fluttering madly and drawing out Jongdae’s aftershocks.

Once he’s come down, Jongdae pulls out swiftly, catches Chanyeol’s quivering hips before they collapse without him and lowers him to the bed, rolling him over. Chanyeol’s face is ugly red and blotchy, tear streaks down his cheeks and hair sticking up everywhere. Jongdae arranges his legs before swooping up to kiss Chanyeol senseless, gentle on his swollen lips. Chanyeol’s still crying, small hiccuping sobs as he comes down, calms down, and Jongdae shushes him, fingers wiping away tears.

“You did so good, that was so good, Yeol,” he murmurs, over and over, until Chanyeol finally laughs weakly, shoves lightly at his shoulder.

“I’m fine, Jongdae, really,” he says, voice hoarse. His eyes are still wet, though, so Jongdae gets up and grabs a warm wet towel, cleans them up. Chanyeol hums under the attention, and finally relaxes into the bed, eyelids growing heavy. He reaches out for Jongdae when he finishes, and Jongdae lets himself be tugged and tucked clumsily into the looping circle of Chanyeol’s arms and chest, pulling the blankets with him.

“Thanks,” he murmurs sleepily into Jongdae’s hair, and Jongdae burrows in, presses a kiss to Chanyeol’s jaw.

“Anytime,” he says, but Chanyeol is already asleep.

 

\----------------------------------------------------

 

It's Saturday, and Jongdae has spent the entire day in the same godforsaken study room in the library, the same goddamn four pale green walls and empty whiteboard staring at him for the past nine-ish hours, mocking him and his unfinished research paper. He didn't even leave for lunch—Kyungsoo had shown up around noon with food and his own study materials, and Jongdae had been grateful for the food, company, and slight change in scenery.

Jongdae doesn't get to spend much time alone with Kyungsoo like this, just sitting quietly, studying, making the occasional joke or bitchy comment about their work. It's not that they don't see each other plenty, they do but usually Baekhyun tags along, or Chanyeol, and they're both experts at monopolizing Jongdae and Kyungsoo's time. And to be fair, Jongdae is just as loud in those cases.

But Jongdae appreciates Kyungsoo's quiet, his solid demeanor, strong and comforting even as he lets himself get pulled giggling into dumb antics. The first few hours of the afternoon had gone easier with Kyungsoo's reassuring presence across the table, half hidden behind his own stack of books.

But it's been nine hours and Jongdae's written one and a half pages, has reworked his thesis five times, and hates everything. He can feel the burn of frustration and mental exhaustion behind his eyes, feels a tight ball of rage somewhere at the base of his throat. When he reads over what he's written and realizes he just contradicted himself, _again_ , the ball swells, choking him, and he snaps.

"Fuck this!" He yells, sees Kyungsoo jump in surprise but doesn't care. He shoves his laptop across the table, grabs a pen and throws it at the wall, hard. "Fuck this shit," he spits, buries his face in his hands.

Hands pressed to his eyeballs, Jongdae hears Kyungsoo get up, walk over to the corner where his pen fell, then the soft click of it placed on the table next to him. “Hey,” Kyungsoo says, soft, hand reaching out to pull Jongdae’s face up from his hands to look up. Still wound too tight, too annoyed, Jongdae grimaces, yanks his chin out of Kyungsoo’s grip and tries to turn away.

Tries, but Kyungsoo’s hand is swiftly back on his chin, tighter this time, insistent when he pulls Jongdae’s face back. “Hey,” he says again, frowning. His face is hard but his eyes are glittering, his voice deeper, sharper, and the way his fingers press into Jongdae’s jaw makes him shiver.

Yes, yes, yes this is what Jongdae wants, yes. He already feels lighter, less foggy, even as he physically tenses. He glares challengingly at Kyungsoo before pointedly looking away. The fingers on his jaw squeeze once, before they let go.

“I think we’re done studying here,” Kyungsoo says, and Jongdae grins as he gathers his things.

 

They get back to Kyungsoo’s room to find his roommate Jongin lounging on his bed, reading with earbuds in. He looks up, startled, when Kyungsoo calls his name.

“Yeah?” he asks, removing an earbud.

“I'm gonna need you to leave the room,” Kyungsoo says, and Jongdae can see Jongin’s about to protest, but then he sees Jongdae, and the way Kyungsoo’s hand is wrapped around Jongdae’s wrist, tight, thumb pressed hard into the heel of his palm—but maybe he doesn’t see that much. Jongin’s eyes meet Jongdae’s, and Jongdae gives his third-most salacious grin. Jongin chokes on whatever protest he had and goes bright red instead.

“O-oh, yeah uh, sure I’ll just—Sehun’s—or, uh Taemin’s, or—yeah...bye,” he stammers out as he scrambles for his things and rushes out the door, glasses askew and earbuds trailing. Jongdae almost feels bad, but it doesn’t last long. He’s shoved up against the door the second it closes, a loud bang that doesn’t cover the startled yelp from the other side of the door. Jongdae would laugh but his mouth is occupied, silenced by Kyungsoo's lips against his own.

It's hot, it's always hot from the start when they kiss, neither one wasting time, wanting more, now, faster, harder, fighting to take as much as they can from each other, give as much as they can back. Jongdae gives some and Kyungsoo throws it right back.

He supposes this is why Baekhyun had introduced them, why he and Kyungsoo hadn't worked out so well, Baekhyun too soft. And Jongdae knows Kyungsoo and Chanyeol fuck on the regular but Chanyeol doesn't fight, he submits, so easily, Jongdae knows.

Kyungsoo’s clearly trying to make Jongdae submit too, bend under the weight of his kisses and god, Jongdae wants to, wants to let Kyungsoo lay him out and press him down and take the pressure off but not yet, not yet. Not yet, when the fight is half the point.

So he bites, bites hard at those full, plush, terrible lips and grinds his hips upwards sharply, laughing when Kyungsoo’s grip slips in surprise.

"Bitch," he growls, pulls at Jongdae's hair, yanking his head back sharply. Jongdae gasps at the sting but he’s still grinning, laughing at Kyungsoo’s eyes blown dark and dangerous and _god_. Jongdae usually doesn’t take it, doesn’t stand down but Kyungsoo makes him want to, the clash of opposing desires swirling in his gut. It’s a rush, so he laughs in Kyungsoo’s face, wants to see Kyungsoo throw his challenge back at him.

And he always does. “Get on the bed,” Kyungsoo growls, yanking Jongdae back from the door.

Jongdae looks him in the eye, licks his lip, smirks. “Make me.”

The next second he’s being hauled onto the bed, crappy springs creaking ominously when Kyungsoo pins him to the bed with his thighs, hand pressing on Jongdae’s sternum. It knocks the wind out of Jongdae and fills it with flames instead.

“Strip,” he commands, and Jongdae obeys, ripping his shirt and pants off as fast as he can, too eager but he doesn’t care. Kyungsoo does the same, and Jongdae's mouth waters at the sight of him already half hard and thick. He wants that in his mouth, _right now_ , but when he sits up Kyungsoo shoves him back down, hard.

“You stay down,” Kyungsoo snarls. “You don’t get my dick in your mouth today, you cockslut.” Jongdae shivers, feels himself give and also flare in shame and anger at the insult and it only feeds the rush.

“Shut up,” he croaks, and Kyungsoo laughs, sharp.

“But it’s true, you’re so easy.” He punctuates this with a flick to Jongdae’s nipples, pulls at the piercings and Jongdae arches, moans. He’s starting to burn, feels himself going soft as the shame and pleasure take over from the urge to fight. “See? So fucking easy.”

Jongdae tries to protest, but it comes out weak and Kyungsoo simply grips his jaw, pulls it to face him.

“Yes, you are, and you know it, you _slut_.” Jongdae whimpers, and Kyungsoo sneers. “Fine, you’ll get something, since you’re so desperate, but not my cock.”

Jongdae feels himself nod desperately and hates it. But god he wants it, wants whatever Kyungsoo will give him. Jongdae needs it, needs to be broken down, faster, not fast enough.

Kyungsoo yanks him down, climbs over his head and braces against the headboard, one hand buried in Jongdae’s hair. And _oh,_ Jongdae knows where this goes, he’s good at this.

“Lick,” Kyungsoo growls, and Jongdae practically scrambles up Kyungsoo’s thighs to press his face to his hole, lick around and in with sloppy but purposeful strokes.

Kyungsoo groans, grinds down, and ride Jongdae’s face like that, swears when Jongdae shoves in as much of his tongue as he can. He keeps grinding, swearing, calling Jongdae names and using his hand to shove Jongdae’s face tighter against his hole. Jongdae can barely breathe but he can’t stop, won’t stop, can’t even hear anything around the blood rushing to his head. He clings to Kyungsoo’s thighs like a man drowning, and he supposes he is.

Too soon, Kyungsoo slides off, both gasping for air. The blood is still rushing in Jongdae’s ears as Kyungsoo yanks lube out of his desk drawer by his bed but it turns into a tight throb when Kyungsoo shoves one, then two fingers into his ass.

“Oh, fuck!” Jongdae yells, moaning long and loud when Kyungsoo pushes in a third.

“Come on, scream louder,” Kyungsoo growls, and Jongdae does when he finally slides in, thick and hard and so, so hot. Kyungsoo practically bends him in half, legs shucked up over his shoulders as he thrusts hard and fast, and Jongdae tries to muster the last of his pride. He manages to clench down, grins a little so Kyungsoo knows it was on purpose. Kyungsoo hisses and his hips stutter.

“ _Shit_ Jongdae, you—!” Kyungsoo pulls out swiftly, clambers over Jongdae's legs back up by Jongdae's face. One, two, three pulls of his own hand on his cock and he's coming on Jongdae's face, long ropes of come, sticky and warm on Jongdae's skin, across his nose, his cheekbones. He manages to get his mouth open, catch some on his lip and chin, feels the fat tip of Kyungsoo's dick rest briefly on his lip.

"God, look at you," Kyungsoo groans. "Fucking filthy." Jongdae blinks his eyes open carefully. He knows he looks wrecked, knows how good his cheekbones look flushed and dripping, and even now, buzzing with the need to come he manages to lick at the come on his lip, let it linger on his tongue before smacking his lips and smirking.

"Holy shit, you fucking love it, you slut,” Kyungsoo spits, and his eyes are so dark, so intense, so _incredibly turned on_ , boring into Jongdae and breaking him down and he feels the last of his restraint snap.

“Yeah,” he gasps, shaky, “yeah I do love it, let me come, please—” Jongdae barely finishes begging before Kyungsoo jams his fingers back into his ass, three fingers pressed hard against his prostate.

“ _Yes_ yes god, Kyungsoo please, I—” Kyungsoo’s lips are back at his nipple, tugging at the piercing and it’s too much and not enough. Jongdae feels like he’s going to burn at both ends, feels himself rushing towards the edge but he needs just a little, just a little more—

Kyungsoo wraps his other hand around Jongdae’s dick, “come on, come already,” and Jongdae _does_ , flies over the edge, hips arching off the bed and yelling in ways that he knows the whole hall can hear.

He comes down to Kyungsoo stroking at his face, wiping the lines of come off with his thumb and absently sucking it off as he goes. It would be hot but Jongdae can feel his muscles settling, unknotting and going slack. His face is hot, his knees trembling, and he feels a bit like mush.

“You okay?” Kyungsoo asks, pushing Jongdae’s sweaty bangs from his face. Jongdae grins.

“Yeah, just need some water,” he croaks, and Kyungsoo’s gone and back in a flash, two glasses of water for them both and a wet towel in hand. Jongdae drinks while Kyungsoo cleans up and pulls on some sweats. He settles down next to Jongdae, arm under Jongdae’s head.

“Feeling better, less cranky?” He asks, playfully flicking at Jongdae’s forehead. Jongdae chuckles and lays his head back on Kyungsoo’s arm, relaxes into the solid weight of his arm.

“Yeah, really. Thanks—thanks a lot.”

“Oh, it’s really no problem,” Kyungsoo smiles and does this thing with his caterpillar eyebrows that makes Jongdae laugh out loud. “So, how about we get some dinner?”

Jongdae groans. “I don’t think I’ll be moving for about an hour.”

“Takeout it is, then.”

Jongdae hums, happily. “Get chicken to apologize to Jongin.” Kyungsoo winces as he scrolls through his phone and Jongdae laughs again. “That poor kid.”

“He’ll be fine, probably,” Kyungsoo mutters at his phone.

“Hey,” Jongdae says, weakly poking Kyungsoo in the side, and Kyungsoo looks up from his screen. “Gimme a kiss, nerd.” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes but complies with a grin, kissing Jongdae soft and sweet, like he does after every time they fuck.

All three of them, they’re all sweet, sweet for him and sweet _to_ him and Jongdae is going to indulge for as long as he can.


End file.
